.TOMORROW'S
TREASURE

By Rosalyn
Alsobrook

St. Martin's Press, Seascape, 12/97
(book six of the series, but this book stands alone)ISBN: 0-312-96394-7

Excerpt from end of Chapter
One

. . . The long <girl's>
shimmering-blond ponytail dangling through the
adjustment gap in the back of Jeri <Adams>'s red
baseball cap was a dead giveaway. So was her
half-tucked in bright red baseball shirt with bold
white letters that read Adam's Lumber and
Construction. Evidently she child played on a
sponsored team back home.
"Come on, Dad," she whined loud enough Paige heard.
"He's got the idea already. Move out of the way so I
can finish striking him out."Dad? Paige skidded to an abrupt halt, still a
dozen yards behind the lopsided backstop. The man she
had thought to be Damon Adams still stood out in right
field, now impatiently twisting what appeared to be an
oversized gold ring around his pinky. But the man Jeri
had just referred to as Dad stood directly behind the
batter, helping a boy who looked to be about nine
years old straighten out his batting swing.
She couldn't see the second man's face, but when he
bent forward to place his arms around the small
batter, his worn jeans pulled taut, allowing her a
nice view of what could only be described as one lean,
hard, muscular behind. The light blue short-sleeve
shirt stretched around a pair of wicked shoulders, and
gave stark contrast to his dark tan. His arms flexed
with smooth, agile strength while he gently moved the
boy's arms, using his hands.
He was one of those men who made simple
mass-manufactured clothing look top designer.So much for the softening with age theory.
A hard knot the size of the baseball in Jeri's hand
formed in the pit of Paige's stomach. Suddenly, she
wasn't so sure she had done the right thing coming to
Maine. There had to have been other favors she could
have done for her sister.
"No, Barney, hold it more like this, and swing level
when she pitches it to you."
Paige sucked in an unsteady breath at the sound of his
voice. Even that was every bit as sexy as it had been
back in high school. Maybe more so, what with the
deepening of age. How unfair.
"Come off it, Dad," Jeri complained. She shoved her
hat back a half inch, all her ponytail allowed. Not
yet noticing Paige, she jutted her hip out and tucked
her gloved hand under her pitching arm. Dirt stained
the side of her pleated shorts. "He isn't even on our
team."
"I'm just helping him a little with his batting
problem," Damon pointed out needlessly. He continued
to manipulate the boy's arms. . .. Finally Damon
stepped away from the batter and took his position as
the catcher. His form fitted Levi's stretched to their
limit around taut thighs when he squatted and slid his
hand back into his glove, then held it upright. He had
yet to turn around and notice Paige. His attention
remained on the batter. "Ready." . . .
. . . Paige waited until the preacher finished his
victory dance and had joined his teammates under the
only tree before approaching the man she now knew to
be Damon.
Prepared to feel insignificant again, like when she
was twelve years old and he was eighteen, she called
out his name.
Everyone turned to look at her. Including Damon.
Paige's reaction was immediate. A combination of awe
and disappointment struck her at the same time.
She had so hoped that in concession for having kept
such a strong, healthy body, he had forfeited
immensely in the face. But he hadn't. From this
distance, he looked even better than he had fifteen
years go. But close up surely she would discover a
whole network of age lines and such, especially when
it was obvious by his tan skin, he spent a lot of time
out in the aging sun.
She headed toward him, again hopeful.
"Yes?" Having squinted against the sun despite the
shade the billed cap provided, his nose was still
wrinkled when he first turned to face her. But,
instantly, that expression gave way to one of obvious
surprise. "Can I help you?"
Jeri had not yet returned to the pitching mound and
stood just a few feet in front of her father. She
cocked her head and gave Paige a quick once over,
apparently not pleased with what she saw. Her
disdainful expression reminded Paige of that younger
Damon she remembered so well.
With Jeri blocking her path, Paige stopped several
paces away and desperately sought something
intelligent to say. But words failed her. She was
still too stunned by how very little Damon had changed
in fifteen years.
"Dad, is this the woman you told me about?"
Jeri scowled and gave Paige another cynical sweep. "Is
she the one who is supposed to help keep me
entertained while we're here?" She rolled her eyes and
gave Paige a get real kind of look. Clearly,
the girl thought Paige unqualified for the job.
Perceptive child.
"I don't know," Damon admitted. He'd tugged off his
glove and stepped around his daughter. Eyes that were
every bit as blue as those Paige remembered met hers
questioningly when he came to a halt only a couple of
feet away.
Paige drew in another disappointed breath. Dear
heavens. Hardly any age lines at all. Her heart did a
little jazz dance while she considered how
disgustingly handsome he still looked.
"Are you Paige Brockway?" He blinked hard as if not
quite expecting the answer to be yes. The shadow from
his cap slanted across a still handsome face while he
studied her more closely. "Are you that skinny
little kid who used to follow Blair around all the
time? The one who was so bony, I called her
Sticks?"
"Yes," Paige snapped. Obviously, the attitude part of
this man hadn't changed either. He was still
incredibly insulting. "But I happen to have grown up
since then."Great , she thought. Not even a minute in
Damon's company and already she was on the defensive.
It was like being twelve years old all over again.

.

Quotes:

"A rich and original treat--certain to fulfill every
dreamer's fantasy. A winner for Ms.
Alsobrook!"
----Katherine Sutcliffe, bestselling author of
MY ONLY LOVE.

"Alsobrook is impressive and self-confident in her
approach to writing."
----Texas Books In Review, Spring
issue.

.

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